Harry Potter and the Medallion of Time
by Aytheria
Summary: HIATUS!1000yearsago to date the Great Four of the time founded the school known as Hogwarts, 1000 years later it still stands proud. After a horrible summer, Harry suddenly finds himself kneedeep in danger and evryone knows you should never mess with time
1. The Medallion

AN: Okay, I was kinda upset about J.K.'s 5th book. Well, anyway, I've decided to write an AU story about Harry's fifth year (even though I already have like, 3 other stories going... heh... ). Well, anyway, here's a full summery:  
  
SUMMERY: 1000 years ago to date, the Great Four of the time founded the school known as Hogwarts, and 1000 years later it still stands proud. After a horrible summer, Harry suddenly finds himself knee-deep in danger and everyone knows you should never mess with time...  
  
Okay, well, I figure I should warn you now. This is going to be another one of your time-travel fics... though I'm hoping to make it a lot different. I also hope to keep the characters in, well, character! I'd like it very much if you review and tell me what is WRONG with the characters and their personalities! Also, if my history is all wrong, then TELL ME! Correct me where I'm going wrong and I will re-post! (Unless, of course, it would ruin the whole plot, then it'll have to stay, if its small things, then... yeah, tell me in a review!) Thanx!  
  
One more thing... I have HORRIBLE time management (Arrow, shut up, cause I know ur reading this!) so if I don't update in like, months... well... it's not because I'm abandoning this fic! Kk? I've probably forgotten to write more... so just send me a friendly reminder via e-mail and tell me to GET TYPING OR ELSE!  
  
Alright? Am I clear? And Arrow, you DO NOT have permission to send me e- mails like the one above.... And if u do.... U'll regret it!  
  
^^  
  
Kk, on with the story!  
  
Hope you like it!  
  
**Prologue**  
  
Harry collapsed on the lawn in front of the Dursley's house and pondered over his predicament. The situation hadn't gotten any worse so far, but it was still his most horrible summer by far. At least, he mused, in second year I didn't have to do work. He tilted his head and stared at the bushes on the far side of the grass.  
  
The sun beat down mercilessly on his face and bare arms. He was almost as red as a tomato from spending so much time outdoors during this unordinary heat wave. Harry closed his eyes and tried to ignore the small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He had to resist the erg to swipe them away... doing so would irritate his skin and cause it too possibly blister even more than it was already. His hand clenched down on the gardening sheers in his right hand. What he wouldn't give for a glass of water.  
  
"Boy! Where are you? You better have finished pruning!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice floated out the kitchen window and Harry winced. There was the creaking of a door and he hastily scrambled up from his prone position. He turned to find his Aunt narrowing her eyes at him from the doorway.  
  
"You lazy scum!" She hissed, "Get up! The weeds need pulling!" She flounced back indoors and left him standing in the middle of the lawn staring incredulously. He had pulled all the weeds the day before yesterday! It was impossible from them to have even begun to grow back after only 48 hours. He wisely kept his mouth shut. If he had told her there were no weeds to BE pulled, she'd probably tell him to paint the fence again. He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his matted raven black hair.  
  
Half an hour later Harry walked cautiously indoors. He'd just spent thirty minutes walking idly back and forth across the green grass and whenever his nosy aunt peered out the window, dropping to his knees and pretending to look for weeds. He glanced through the living room doorway to see Dudley firmly attached to the couch and watching the tele. He had a whole liter of pop in a plastic bottle next to him and a huge bag of crisps. Harry stared longingly at that bag and his stomach rumbled. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore the emptiness gnawing a hole in him.  
  
"You done boy?" The voice came from behind him and Harry tried not to jump. He turned around slowly and attempted to look as innocent as possible.  
  
"I—I was just wondering if I could have a glass of water Aunt Petunia. Please? Everyone says that it's not good to be outside for long periods of time and—"  
  
"I don't care what everyone says!" She snapped and sniffed disdainfully. "Fine. But make sure you wash your hands first, they're disgusting. Oh, and wash all the dishes while your at it." She stalked into the living room, looking an awful lot like a mangled swan. Harry glared at her back, but did as he was told. If he didn't then he wouldn't get what little was fed to him anyway.  
  
After washing ALL the dishes and checking the small piece of paper he'd grown to hate called a chore list, Harry was finally free to make his slow way upstairs to his bedroom. He entered the small space that he called his own and slumped down on his small, creaky bed. A small hoot to his left and Harry turned his head a fraction of an inch. Hedwig, his snowy white owl, was once again padlocked in her cage.  
  
"I'm so sorry girl." He whispered. She hooted at him in reassurance. After three weeks like this, he had hoped that his friends might at least begin to worry. That they might at least write and he could ask for help. He stiffened, but did he deserve help? Did he deserve to be rescued? He cut off his chain of thought and turned away from Hedwig. He mustn't think like that, he thought furiously. He wasn't his fault, it wasn't! But some part of him couldn't help but wonder if it was... if he hadn't been so damn honorable and taken the cup before Cedric had had the chance. He would have still been alive.  
  
Harry's head drooped and fatigue overcame his mind. He curled up in a ball as he dropped off to sleep, and the last thing his mind registered before conscience slipped away was that tomorrow was his birthday.  
  
The dreams came again as he slept. Always the same, he dreamt of the graveyard and Voldemort's red, glowing eyes boring into his mind. Those eyes were always watching him and cruel laughter always followed his waking. He shivered in his sleep and tried to shut his minds eye to the visions as they came. His scar stung and began to bleed again, like it always did. The faces of his parents loomed up before him in the dark and Harry shied away from their disapproving gazes.  
  
"It wasn't my fault. I'm sorry." He whispered into the darkness. "I'm so sorry... "  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat up quickly and his mind registered the fact that it was dark out and he'd missed dinner. He sighed. Leaning over the side of his bed, he pried up the loose floor-board and rummaged around inside. This secret stash of food left over from the year before (thank god that Mrs. Weasley had the insight to put preserving charms on them) was probably the only thing keeping him alive. He only had a little left, he mused, he'd have to ration it. He broke a biscuit in half and then dropped one piece through the bars of Hedwig's cage. She hooted her thanks and the biscuit disappeared quickly. He ate his half slowly to make it last longer.  
  
Suddenly, there was a tapping on his bedroom window. Harry got up curiously and opened the window as quietly as he could. He poked his head out curiously, there was nothing there, wait... what was... WHAM!  
  
Harry flew backwards as a small ball of feathers and energy the size of a tennis ball careened into his head. Harry let out an 'Oof' as he landed on his backside on the floor. Said ball of feathers began to twitter madly and zoom around the room. Thanking his lucky stars that it wasn't so late that the Dursley's had retired from the T.V. yet Harry levered himself off the floor and with years of Quidditch practice to back him up, snatched the bird out of the air.  
  
"Shut up!" He hissed at it, and relieved it of its package before tossing the annoying owl out the window and slamming it shut. Too late, Harry realized his mistake and hastily opened the window again, but the owl was gone. He shut the window softly this time and sat down on his bed in defeat. That owl, that annoying ball of feathers had been his only hope of salvation from the Dursley's. Harry moaned and punched his pillow. Stupid, stupid, stupid... he chanted in his head.  
  
Eventually Harry turned his attention to the package that the owl had delivered. There was a small letter attached. He reached out and untied it from the rest of the bundle before unfolding it to read.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I know Mum told us not to write and to leave you alone because of what happened at the end of last year, but I felt that you should at least receive this one letter and gift for your birthday. I know it's a bit early, but then, I know Ron was going to use Pig to send you a present tomorrow, and... well, I didn't want him to know I sent you this. He'd tease me mercilessly. I know we're not really friends, but you DID save me from that Basilisk and I finally dredged up the courage to send a present this year.  
  
I hope you accept it, and I hope you like it. I found this in a nifty little antiques shop in London a week ago when Dad took us all out to go shopping in the Muggle world. It reminded me so much of you, so I bought it. It wasn't that expensive, so don't worry, the Muggle in the shop thought it was rather useless, so I got it cheap.  
  
I don't know how to word this next sentence Harry, but I thought I'd tell you this now. When you first met me, and I you, the only thing I saw was the scar, not the person behind the scar. Now, however, I know differently, and I just want to let you know that if you ever need someone, I'll be there for you. I know that sounds kind of mushy, but I'm serious. I also know I'm a year younger than you, but hopefully that won't make a difference.  
  
About last year. I won't say anything other than what I'm writing now. I know how you feel. When you almost died for me in the Chamber, I felt that I could have prevented it all. I had nightmares about it that have never really gone away, and I remember people always telling me it wasn't my fault, and not to feel sorry for myself, and I just grew sick of it all. I won't tell you any of that now, but other's will. If you ever need to talk about it, I know Ron and Hermione will always be there—and so will I.  
  
That's it I think. Except, Happy Birthday Harry. I hope you won't think any worse of me for this letter.  
  
Lo—  
  
From,  
  
Ginny Weasley.   
  
Harry slowly lowered the letter. He'd never really given a second glance at Ginny before—she'd always been 'Ron's little sister' to him. But now, after this letter, he wondered if maybe he should have gotten to know her a bit better. After all, she WAS only a year younger, that wasn't much. He smiled. At least someone cared, in any case. He glanced down at the package and wondered what could possibly remind Ginny of him. He picked it up and started to unwrap the brownish paper.  
  
The paper fell away gradually to reveal a small medallion. A tiny linked chain was wrapped around the middle, so Harry lifted it up and unwound it carefully. The medallion itself was round and had two lions rearing up—rather like the Gryffindor lion—on each side of a small crest. The crest itself centered on a lightning bolt with ivy wrapped around it. Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the lightning bolt... it was just too coincidental. He shivered and turned the medallion over. It had a strange ruin carved onto the back. What it meant, Harry had no idea, but he knew Hermione would. He resolved to ask her as soon as school started again. Harry flipped the medallion back over and peered at it once more. Just as he was about to look away again, his eyes caught sight of a few small words scrawled down at the bottom, along the rim. He squinted, but he couldn't quiet make them out. They looked to be in Latin, however, and Harry figured all he needed was a magnifying glass and he'd be able to read them clearly.  
  
It really was a thoughtful gift, when he didn't even deserve one. He'd never gotten Ginny a gift before, never glanced in her direction, and yet she'd written to him and gotten him something without any incentive but her own. He smiled and unclipped the chain and did the necklace up again around his neck.  
  
The medallion was a cool weight against his hot skin as it thumped against his chest. Grinning from ear to ear, Harry lay down again and closed his eyes, for some odd reason, no longer afraid to sleep.  
  
***  
  
Harry collapsed down on his bed for the second time that day. The first being when he'd been sent up to his room with no breakfast for being late down. He grimaced. It was his BIRTHDAY, and yet today had been the worst one out of the whole week. Perhaps, he thought, it was because his Aunt and Uncle KNEW it was his birthday, and so they conspired to make his day a living hell... his thoughts were interrupted by a loud tapping on the window. Ah, that would be the promised birthday gift from Ron, and maybe more.  
  
It took awhile until Harry had managed to shoo all the owls out the window except one and neatly arrange his pile of presents. The owl that had stayed was a foreign owl and Harry had no idea where it came from, but Pig had flown straight back out the window before Harry could catch him. Harry eyed the owl carefully before picking up the package it had delivered and smiling at the neat and tidy handwriting on the front of the letter—Hermione.  
  
"You'll do." He told the owl absentmindedly while he read through her letter. It pretty much said the same thing as Ginny's had; that she would let him talk about it on his own time and if he ever needed anyone she would be there for him, and of course, Happy Birthday. It also mentioned, he noted, that she hadn't in fact, visited Krum that summer... so far. He smiled when she ordered him to do his homework, and then realized that he couldn't possibly comply unless someone got him out of this hell-hole. He hastily unwrapped her present (which looked suspiciously like a book), and indeed it was.  
  
Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts; Edition V  
  
Harry shook his head in amusement; trust Hermione to get him something like this. The owl perched next to him shifted impatiently and Harry sighed. He turned Hermione's letter over onto the back and searched the pile of broken junk at the back of his closet for some sort of writing implement. He eventually found a snapped pencil. There wasn't much lead left, so Harry would have to be careful how much he wrote. He chewed on the shattered remains of the end of the pencil and contemplated what he should write. Help, from Harry, would be the best possible choice, but he might send Hermione into unnecessary panic. He finally decided on a reasonable letter.  
  
Hermione,  
  
You've got to save me if you ever want me to do my homework. The Dursley's have locked all my things away and it's almost a repeat of second year. I can survive, but please tell Dumbledore. I don't think I can stay here much longer.  
  
Har--  
  
Harry cursed softly as the tip of the pencil lead broke. His name now trailed off down the parchment. He scowled and folded up the letter. The delivery owl hooted when Harry presented the letter to him and told him to take it back to where he'd come from. He watched the owl fly away, letter clutched tightly, before turning back to his other presents and letters.  
  
When Harry read through Ron's letter he almost laughed out loud. Apparently the twins HAD followed up on their bargain and gotten Ron a nice pair of dressrobes. Ron took up several lines of the letter talking about the twins sudden funding and their suspicious attitude concerning the dressrobes. He made several wild guesses about the benefactor of the twins' joke shop that had Harry silently chuckling and momentarily forgetting his dire predicament. Ron ended the letter by saying that he was trying his best to get Harry invited over, but it didn't look promising, and to have a Happy Birthday, hope you like your present.  
  
It turned out that Ron, of al people, had gotten him a book. Of course the shock vanished rapidly when the book turned out to be about Quidditch. Several candies also fell out of the wrapping paper which Harry thanked Ron for mentally over and over again. However much he wanted to devour the sweets right then and there, he held himself back and carefully placed them under the loose floor board.  
  
Harry particularly cherished the letter written by Sirius. Sirius's gift (coincidently enough) was a package consisting of TWO books. However, when he unwrapped them he felt tears prickling in his eyes. One book; The Marauder's Guide to Marauding complied by Sirius and written by Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. The whole thing was written in neat handwriting, most probably by Remus, and, Harry was tickled to see while flipping through it briefly, 'useful' comments by James and Sirius in the margins with rather colourful illustrations. Peter hadn't really taken part in the writing of the book with the exception of a few comments here and there and his part in the acknowledgements. Harry scowled when he caught sight of Peter, that TRAITOR'S, handwriting.  
  
The second book made Harry's eyes light up when he read the title. The Complete Guide to Animangus Transformations by Ima Kyat. Looking through the book Harry took note of some of the more gruesome sketches of people half transformed and the like. It reminded him horribly of the Polyjuice Potion Hermione'd brewed in their second year. He shuddered at the memory. That was one of the more unpleasant memories he harbored. Harry set both books down on his bedside table and flopped back down on his bed. A cold weight thumped on his chest, and startled, he pulled out the medallion Ginny had given him. So far he hadn't taken it off. It was rather an odd little thing, but still thoughtful—and with that in mind, Harry Potter fell into the second fitful sleep he'd had since the Tournament.  
  
****  
  
AN: There we go. Prologue. Introductions. Beginnings. *cough* did Harry and everyone seem in character?!?!?!?! PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I really would appreciate the feedback. ESPECIALLY when you tell me where to improve. It helps...especially since I want to be a writer later on in my life and I NEED PRACTICE AND HELP!  
  
REVIEW!  
  
Also, question! I can't go on until you all vote on this simple pairing poll. It will affect the whole story layout until the adventure begins... dun dun dun!  
  
Anyway:  
  
Harry/Ginny  
  
Harry/Hermione  
  
Kk? I've kinda given an opportunity for both to happen, even if you don't realize it... ^^ SO VOTE IF YOU WANT MORE CHAPTERS! I need at least 10 votes please! So get your opinion in here NOW! You get an opportunity to shape the story, so DO SO!  
  
*grins* okay people! Now that I've thoroughly drilled that into your brains, GO DO IT!  
  
*sings* It's late at night and I ate CA-AAAN-NNNNDDDD-DDDYYYYYY!!!!!!!! (so I'm hyper!!!!)  
  
Arrow shut up.  
  
Hey Blee.  
  
Bai everyone else I don't know!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! |  
  
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V That's it, just press that little itty-bitty button right THERE and we'll all be HAPPY!  
  
^^; 


	2. Runes

AN: I'm BAAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!!!! Thanx for the votes! You know, I think I forgot the disclaimer last time! Here goes.  
  
Disclaimer: I own EVERYTHING! I am the Ultimate Supreme Ruler of the Universe and All Shall Bow Down and Fear Me! *evil laugh*  
  
*cough* actually, I... don't... it's the sad truth and I know we all weep tears of sorrow and heartbreak and... er... yeah...  
  
ON TO THE FIRST CHAPTER! Heigh HO!  
  
ANN: can't u tell I've been eating candy??? AND the fact that my internet's been down has put me in a BAD mood.... soooo.... I'm hyper to make up for it.... Yup...  
  
**Chapter ONE**  
  
Harry squinted in the sudden sunlight and tried to make out the small shape he knew was making its unsteady way towards him. Just then, the clouds moved back over the sun and blocked out its bright glare once more. He sighed in relief, and his eyes finally managed to pick out the wobbling shape of a large owl flapping clumsily in the air. Harry winced momentarily as the owl accidentally crashed into a tree and got tangled up. Errol the owl could not be mistaken from a mile away at the rate he was going.  
  
Eventually, the owl untangled itself and started to make its slow bobbing way over again. It was a good thing it was so early in the morning, despite the bright sunlight, or the Dursley's might have actually been awake.  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
It had been four days since his birthday and his 'SOS' owl to Hermione. Hermione hadn't replied, but it was possible she'd contacted Ron about the situation. Harry didn't know why he hadn't just sent Hermione's owl straight to Ron, but then he supposed sending it to Hermione might have been a better idea to begin with because Hermione was less likely to jump to conclusions. Ron, on the other hand, was more likely to immediately assume that Harry was on the verge of death and cause a riot trying to get him away from the Dursley's. Harry smiled as he thought over the varying reactions his friends would voice if they read the letter.  
  
Hermione would probably try to look for double meanings in his every word that might hint at something more and then logically assume he was overreacting, or that he was in worse peril than he'd let on depending on what she'd come up with concerning his letter. Ron was more likely to cause a panic, as he'd just assumed, and—what about Ginny? Harry paused in his thinking and watched the owl get closer.  
  
What about Ginny? He asked himself. He supposed she counted as a friend now. He fingered the medallion lying about his neck fondly and smiled. He'd have to have a long talk with her when he next got the chance. He mentally berated himself for letting her go after the Chamber incident and just forgetting about her. Unfortunately enough to say, because he hadn't tried to get to know her better, he had no idea what her reaction would be. He sighed and then moved to open the window for the rapidly approaching Errol.  
  
The owl swooped clumsily into his room (surprising Harry when he didn't crash into the side of the house instead) and collapsed on his bed in an undignified heap. Harry quickly shut the window tightly and went to untie the letter attached to his leg. Harry set the owl upright on his bed post and apologized profoundly because he couldn't offer anything for the owl to eat or drink. From her cage Hedwig hooted in agreement. Errol opened a bleary eye and hooted condescendingly. Harry smiled at the owl and quickly broke the letter's seal.  
  
Harry,  
  
Hermione just contacted us. She told us that you wrote her a letter. We've got the letter now, is it really that bad? I bet it's all our fault, what with that Ton Tongue Toffee Fred and George fed your cousin last year! I'm sorry mate, we're going to get you out of there. Give it a couple of days. We showed Mum the letter and now she's frantically fire-calling Professor Dumbledore. I gotta go now and clean my room. We'll pick you up in two days time. I'll owl you with the exact times later.  
  
Bye. Oh, and Fred and George want to write you something, dunno why...  
  
Ron.  
  
~~~~  
  
Psst, Harry!  
  
Thanks for the money mate, we owe you one, and as such (even though we would have told you later, we felt you needed cheering up) we name you a proud and honorary silent partner in the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes! We'll have a bank account set aside for you and you'll receive a fourth of the profits.  
  
A very Merry Un-birthday to you.  
  
Gred and Forge.  
  
Harry smiled after reading the letter. He really didn't need to have any part in the WWW's; he'd have to talk to Fred and George. It was still nice of them to think of him anyhow. At least it looked like Ron hadn't overreacted. Maybe he'd matured a bit since last year. Harry almost laughed at the thought of a mature-acting Ronald Weasley.  
  
Harry was rudely jerked out of his musings by a screeching voice echoing from downstairs. He sighed.  
  
"Coming Aunt Petunia!" He yelled back.  
  
***  
  
The next two days were agony for Harry. At one point he'd had to confront his relatives about leaving, which had resulted in many arguments, threats, and red-faced Uncle Vernons. However, with the threat of Sirius to back him up, Harry'd eventually won and it was a grudging Vernon that watched a day later as Harry dragged his trunk out from under the stairs.  
  
"I don't want to see hair or hide of you until I absolutely have to, got that boy!"  
  
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry muttered through gritted teeth. He glared at his Uncle from underneath his fringe. However, Uncle Vernon must have seen it because he took a threatening step towards Harry.  
  
"Don't you look at me like that boy!" He roared with his face starting to turn red. Harry, who'd had quite enough by now, was about to retort with something equally rude, when there was a loud bang and a flare of light from the living room. Vernon paled as three red haired, black cloaked shapes came tumbling out of the fireplace one by one. By the time the Weasleys had righted themselves, Vernon had regained his composure.  
  
"How dare—!" He was the perfect image of a feral cat spitting in rage. Mr. Weasley cut in smoothly.  
  
"Mr. Dursley. How do you do, we're here to collect Harry, so we'll just be on our way. Harry, ah! Here we are my boy, give me your trunk, I'll take that and..." He cut off as he noted Hedwig in her cage and the huge padlock on the cage door. He frowned. "What's this Harry?" he asked.  
  
"Hi Harry!" Ron broke into their conversation and came over to slap him on the back in a friendly manner. Harry flinched when his hand made contact with his sore and burnt back. "Harry?"  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"..." Harry didn't want to say anything in front of his uncle. He especially didn't want to accuse him of something right in front of him, or he'd have hell next summer.  
  
"I-it's a padlock..."  
  
"Yes, I can see that Harry, but why have you padlocked your owl in her cage, it's cruel." Mr. Weasley frowned.  
  
"Harry wouldn't do something like that dad!" Piped up a voice and Harry peered around Mr. Weasley and a concerned Ron to spot Ginny Weasley scowling with her hands on her hips.  
  
"I know that dear, but Hedwig's Harry's owl so... " he trailed off and sighed. "We'll discuss this later. Ron, help Harry with his trunk." With that, Mr. Weasley picked up Hedwig's cage and brought her over to where Ginny was standing. Vernon still stood exactly where they'd left him with his mouth opening and closing angrily but not making a sound. Ron gave Harry one more concerned glance before picking up one end of the trunk; Harry picked up the other.  
  
When all of Harry's things were safely lodged in the Dursley's fireplace Harry too stepped into the still-roaring green flames.  
  
"Recon you'll need a bit more Floo powder, don't you?" Mr. Weasley remarked and fished out a small handful of green powder from his robe. "Here you are Harry," he said, handing it to Harry, "it's the Burrow, if you remember." Harry nodded his understanding and threw the powder down by his feet before shouting out the Burrow. In a flare of green flames, he was gone.  
  
"There, Ginny you're next; let's give him a minute to get his things out of the way." Mr. Weasley muttered.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry stumbled out of the Weasley's fireplace and into the concerned arms of Mrs. Weasley. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry barely registered Fred and George removing Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, before he was enveloped in a bone crushing hug. Not expecting the painful hug Harry didn't quite manage to mask the small whimper of pain from his burns. He soon found himself at arms length and being scrutinized like no other.  
  
Harry was saved from Mrs. Weasley's interrogation by the flaring of the fireplace and a certain Ginny Weasley. She came shooting out and collided with Harry and with a great 'Oof' they both went down, almost bringing Mrs. Weasley with them. Seconds later Ron too joined their growing dog pile. Harry had to bit his lip to keep from crying out at the pain from Ginny's body rubbing at his cloths and his burns. He blushed furiously when he realized the compromising position they were both in.  
  
"Ron! Gerrof!" Harry spluttered out through crushed lungs. Ron groaned and levered himself off the pile.  
  
"You should have mo—" He scolded and then trailed off when he saw Harry's red face and Ginny's inches from it. He gaped and then started laughing. Ginny scrambled up hastily and leveled such a glare at her brother that it could have raised the dead.  
  
"Ronald Weasley!" She shrieked, "Shut your bloody trap!" She whirled on her feet and stalked up the stairs in a huff—face a flaming red the entire time. Ron made a face at her back before bending down to help Harry up.  
  
"Nice mate." He joked, clapping Harry on the shoulder for the second time that day. And for the second time that day, Harry couldn't help but wince. Ron's face quickly changed to one of concern.  
  
"That's twice now, what's wrong? Hurt yourself? I bet it was those lousy Dursleys!"  
  
"Indeed Harry. Explanations please." Mr. Weasley appeared with a pop, looking a little worse for wear. "Ghastly muggle man." He shuddered. Harry wondered briefly what Vernon Dursley had tried to do before he was surrounded by concerned but determined faces.  
  
"Uh..." he tried. Mrs. Weasley grasped him and steered him into the living room and sat him down on the couch.  
  
"Harry dear, you send us an urgent letter, your owl is padlocked in her cage, you look rather underfed, and you seem to be hurt in some way, there MUST be something wrong!" Mrs. Weasley was slowly getting more and more heated up and there was a dangerous glint in her eye as examined him with a critical eye. Harry seriously felt very sorry for the Dursleys.  
  
"Well, uh... " he trailed off, not sure whether he should tell them about the dreams and his scar—no, they'd probably panic, he reasoned. That, and he didn't really want the whole Weasley family to know what his relatives were really like. "Well, I, er... " he tried again.  
  
Fred and George got up abruptly.  
  
"Well, see you around Harry." And with that they exited the room and tramped up the stairs. Harry blinked at their sudden departure. Now it was only Ron and his parents in the room. He sighed, here goes nothing.  
  
"Uncle Vernon locked Hedwig in her cage. She was starving, I had to do something. And he locked my school things under the stairs, including my wand—what if something had happened? I wouldn't have been able to defend myself. And the food you gave me from last summer was pretty much gone." And I've been having dreams of Voldemort, nightmares from which I always wake with a bleeding scar. And my back's burnt to a crisp, that's hardly good. I hear you can get cancer. I think I'm dehydrated, and I'm most certainly malnourished—but that's nothing new. Uncle Vernon didn't look too inclined to let me go back to school, and Dudley's been worse that ever. It hurts twice as much when he manages to punch me because of my burns, and I'm exhausted. Yup, that's about it. Harry kept his mouth shut however, and kept his gaze down. Mrs. Weasley did a remarkable impersonation of Professor McGonagall right then as her lips thinned and her face tightened.  
  
"Well," she managed, "we'll have to remedy all that. I'll need to look at your back though dear. You're not getting off that easily." She stared at him pointedly and he looked up at her horrified. He quickly shot a pleading look to Ron, but he just raised his eyebrow and nodded his head in agreement with his mother. Harry groaned and started to pull off his shirt—seeing how he might as well get it over with—but couldn't because his shirt seemed stuck to his back.  
  
Harry hadn't tried taking his shirt off before, and the one he was wearing was at least a week old. His Aunt hadn't told him to take it off because he was 'getting it dirty' for the past week, and so he hadn't. That was always the excuse she used to make him take off his shirt and get burnt. She seemed to take some sort of cruel delight in seeing him suffer.  
  
"Harry, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, instantly loosing all her previous ferocity. He gave her a small smile to pacify her.  
  
"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley, really, why don't we do this later?" He asked hopefully. Molly Weasley frowned and shook her head with a mutter that sounded suspiciously like 'boys.'  
  
Before Harry had realized what was happening, Mrs. Weasley whipped out her wand and made a sharp gesture with it. Harry held in a gasp of pain and bit his lip so hard it bleed as his shirt began to squirm and wiggle its way off his back. As the shirt unstuck quite painfully from his back, he thanked whatever gods were out there that Dudley WAS so big and his shirts WERE oversized. A strangled yelp from a certain Mrs. Weasley brought Harry back down to his painful existence with a crash.  
  
"Oh my! It's so... so... red! You've burnt it terribly Harry! It's peeling in strips, look at it, oh! I—I'll be right back!" She shot up from her seat and dashed out of the room, and Harry felt the atmosphere seem to freeze. He looked up slowly to find both Ron and Mr. Weasley staring at him and his back in surprise. Harry noted Ron kept wincing. Suddenly he broke the silence.  
  
"What's that?" Ron fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. Harry blinked.  
  
"What's what?"  
  
"That." He nodded at something on Harry's chest, and Harry glanced down quickly to see what the problem was. All he saw was that medallion Ginny had given him. Speaking of the devil, a squeak alerted everyone to her presence on the stairs. A clattering could be heard as she rushed down the stairs and into the living room.  
  
"Oh my God!" she screamed, "what happened!?" She demanded.  
  
"Sunburn." Harry almost shrugged nonchalantly, but caught himself in time. Ginny narrowed her eyes dangerously.  
  
"That may be so..." she began to hiss but stopped when she noticed her medallion around Harry's neck. He watched curiously as the words died on her lips and she flushed crimson.  
  
"Er, what?"  
  
"You're...um...the..." She trailed off and bit her lip and Harry became more confused by the minute. He'd NEVER understand girls.  
  
"Mate, what's the necklace thingy." Ron interrupted their interesting exchange. Harry blinked.  
  
"This?" He held up the medallion. Ron nodded affirmatively. Ginny blushed even harder.  
  
"I'm not sure what it is, but I think it's nice." He smiled at Ginny and Ron followed his gaze to his blushing sister and realization dawned. He formed an O with his mouth and then grinned wickedly.  
  
"Aw, did Widdle Ginny get Harry a Birthday present? I'd wondered where Pig'd gone you know." He taunted.  
  
"Ron." Mr. Weasley warned. Ron paid him no heed.  
  
"Someone has a cru—ush!" He said in a singsong voice. If it were possible, Ginny's blush deepened tenfold.  
  
"I do NOT!" She shrieked, and Harry couldn't help feel that Ron had crossed an invisible and forbidden line. He tried to pacify them both.  
  
"Of course you don't Gin, alright Ron? She's just a friend, okay?" He sighed; they were now glaring at each other. Ron turned his head slightly to smirk at Harry.  
  
"Really now? So tell me then, what's with the pet names? No one's EVER been aloud to call Ginny 'Gin' before—oh wait, it seems you're the exception, I wonder why?" His smirk turned into a full blown grin. "Harry and Ginny sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—!" He was cut off by a small cough.  
  
"Ron, Ginny, please stop this fighting and—" Mr. Weasley didn't get very far before...  
  
SLAP!  
  
Ron put a jerky hand up to his face with a startled expression. Harry winced. There was a big red hand mark imprinted on his cheek. Ginny retracted her hand hurriedly, whirled around, and ran out the door—but not before a small sob escaped her. Mr. Weasley sighed.  
  
"Well Ronald, I hope you're pleased with yourself. You really could have handled that much better—and drawing young Harry into it as well."  
  
"And YOU could have handled THAT much better as well!" Mrs. Weasley stalked into the room, a small pot in one hand and a bottle in the other. Mr. Weasley gave her a startled look, like a deer caught in the headlights before excusing himself quickly and escaping the room.  
  
"Er, sorry Mum, and you too Harry. Dad's right. Um, and about the pet name crack...and the Kissing thing, just a joke, honest. Um, I'll just be going now..." Ron trailed off and then made a run for the door, but not before Mrs. Weasley froze him with her glare.  
  
"You'll do no such thing young man! You'll march straight up those stairs and apologize to your sister right now!"  
  
"Oh, but Mu-um!"  
  
"Don't you 'But Mum' me!" She exclaimed shrilly, and Ron nodded his head and bid a hasty retreat. Mrs. Weasley turned and Harry shrank back in alarm. He relaxed, albeit nervously, when she smiled at him encouragingly.  
  
"Oh, I don't blame you Harry dear. Sometimes I wish Ron would be just a little more mature, but alas, wishful thinking I suppose...Now, let me see that back of yours."  
  
Mrs. Weasley had him drink the Numbing potion before she got to work on his back with the healing salve she'd brought. The Numbing potion worked wonders, though afterwards Harry could barely feel his fingers and toes, let alone move them or the limbs they were attached to.  
  
First Mrs. Weasley had him lay down, and then she applied the salve with a firm but gentle hand. Despite the pain numbing potion before hand her fingers still sent a soothing sensation all up his back and Harry soon felt himself drift off into a peaceful sleep with pleasant and comforting dreams.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione arrived the day after next, and Harry's vacation couldn't have gotten any better. For once he actually enjoyed homework, even with Hermione hanging over his shoulder half the time telling him he was doing it wrong. Ron would grumble and eventually end up lying in front of a warm fire in the evenings with the rest of them, with their books and parchment scattered about them, chatting and exchanging notes.  
  
During the day you wouldn't find them inside for even a minute. The Weasley's had quite extensive grounds, even if they were untidy, and it was fun to sit in the grass sucking lollies and talking. These days were occasionally interrupted by a quick game of Quidditch here and there, with Hermione sitting reading off to the side in the shade of the trees.  
  
Sometimes Ginny would join them. She made a good chaser. She was also quite fun to talk to and an all around good friend. Other times it was just the three of them—the Famous Trio.  
  
One such day found the three of them—Ginny included—sitting under the shade of a drooping tree and sharing a tub of ice cream between themselves. At the moment Harry had the tub and he quickly spooned out a huge clump of ice cream and began licking it thoughtfully before passing it to Ron. He noted absently that the medallion was a cool weight against his hot skin. He frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was NEVER hot. That got him thinking.  
  
"Hey Hermione." He broke silence, and she jerked her head up from where it was bent over the ice cream tub.  
  
"Yes Harry?" She asked quizzically. Ron and Ginny also looked up; Ron from his ant-squishing, and Ginny from her grass-weaving. Harry fiddled with the medallion beneath his shirt for a moment before pulling it out. He held it up to the light and it spun on its chain enchantingly. Hermione scooted closer to get a better look.  
  
"How curious..." she murmured. Harry cleared his throat, and she pulled her head away from the spinning trinket. "Yes?" she asked.  
  
"It's this. Ginny gave it to me," here Ginny blushed once more and Ron grinned, remembering their exchange that first day, "I forgot till now, but there's some curious runes on it, and some Latin that I can't quiet make out. Do you know what it means, the Runes' I mean. I know you take Ancient Runes, right? So you must know." He finished by handing the medallion to her and she sat up, licking her spoon with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Harry James Potter," she began, and Harry groaned. She was using what he and Ron had come to identify as her 'lecturing' tone. She finished licking the last drops of melted ice cream off her spoon and set it in her lap, "do you have ANY idea how many runes there ARE? Just imagine, a rune set for practically every ancient language, and a Rune in that set for every meaning and every word! Do you honestly expect me to KNOW that many?" She shook her head and sighed condescendingly. Ginny giggled and propped herself up on her elbows to better view Hermione's tongue-lashing.  
  
"Take ancient Gnomish for instance." She continued, now completely oblivious to her surroundings, "why, not only do they have runes for every noun and verb and particle, but you also must memorize the combinations of the different runes that come to mean something completely different from the combined base runes. Then there's sentence structure—" She gave an indignant huff as Ron cut her off.  
  
"Yes yes, we get it, why don't you get to the point?" he turned away to dig at the almost empty and sticky ice cream tub in time to miss her glare.  
  
"Fine!" She snapped, "First, we'll have to identify what language it is...which could possibly take a very long time. Then we have to find out whether it's a base rune or a combination. If it's a combination then we must find its base runes and if it's particularly complicated, it could have more than two or three bases..." She trailed off thinking.  
  
"Er, 'Mione? Why don't you just find out which language and look it up in a dictionary?" Harry offered his simple yet effective solution. Hermione sighed condescendingly and tisked.  
  
"Harry, Harry, Harry," she said sadly, "You obviously do not realize how most Rune dictionaries are arranged. It's all well and good if you are familiar with the language, but if your not it could take days. Dictionaries are arranged by bases and then you have to look up the meanings of the bases and combine the meanings and look up that combination to find out the combined meaning that creates that rune. Because there are so many runes and so many combinations the dictionaries are HUGE...sometimes there are even MULTIPLE dictionaries..." she trailed off again and grabbed for the ice cream.  
  
"Well, can't you try? Maybe we'll get lucky." Harry pleaded. Hermione sighed.  
  
"Oh, all right, but, if we're not, then I don't want you bugging me about it until we reach Hogwarts where I'm sure Madame Pince has all the dictionaries we need. I only have a few minor ones with the most common runes for only a few languages. So if it's not recognizable, then you'll have to deal." He set down her once again empty spoon and held up the medallion. They all watched her closely for any signs of recognition.  
  
At first it seemed like she might know the rune, but then her face drew together into a pensive frown. Their smiles fell as her frown quickly turned to confusion, and then came back when her expression cleared only to fall back when she frowned again. Finally they could take the suspense no longer.  
  
"Oh bloody hell! Tell us already!" Ron exploded. Hermione's frown deepened and her eyes snapped up to meet his.  
  
"Ron, mind your language!" She snapped, "and as for the rune, good news and bad." She cleared her throat and they all leaned in expectantly. "I think I know the language—" They all cheered, cutting off what she was about to say. She cleared her throat again and silence fell. Harry wondered briefly why they were making such a big deal out of it all, but then shrugged inwardly and tuned his ears to what Hermione was about to say next.  
  
"The rune's rather complicated. I'd say a minimum of four bases and if it's the language I think it is, then I only have a minor dictionary of it, not enough to determine its meaning. So we'll have to wait. I can probably get started determining some of the minor bases, but that's it. That's only if—IF--it's the language I think it is...a very powerful language..." She murmured the last as if to herself, but Harry caught it anyway.  
  
For the rest of that particular day they talked nothing of the medallion, though anyone with a brain could see the thoughtful expressions on their faces which remained permently fixed there for the rest of the week.  
  
*****  
  
AN: Okie Dokie! I think that's a good leave off point! So, whadaya think???  
  
DID I KEEP THEM IN CHARACTER???????? TELL MEEEEEEE!!!!!  
  
Um, yeah. Btw, srry for the wait. I had SEVERE writer's block for a few weeks concerning ALL my stories!!!! It was SO frustrating. I got probably two sentences until now!  
  
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/ | / |```` \ / | |```` \ /\ / | \ | \ / | | \ / \ / | \ | \ / | | \ / \ / | \ |............. \/ | |............. \/ \/  
  
________________________________________________________ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
^.^; Yeah....plz review. 


	3. Gringotts

AN: Wow, reviews! Yay! I feel so luved. Kk, nyway. More story for ur enjoyment!

**Also, I am extremely sorry for the delay, but I had a rather horrid case of writer's block that just wouldn't go away. The chapter's rather short for such a long wait, and I hope you'll forgive me for it. **

**I went on a long holiday at my grandparent's house, away from all things electronical (except the tele of course!) and I finally got my inspiration back. **

**Once again, I am TERRIBLY sorry for the wait. And anyone reading SiT, I regret to inform you that I still have writer's block for that, so I'll be working mainly on this story for the time being. **

Oh, btw, please excuse my BAD LATIN. Okay? I don't take Latin...yet...but when I do I'll correct my mistakes....cause I got this off a Latin dictionary which did NOT give grammar lessons, got it?

Kk, now that that's cleared up....enjoy:

Chapter TWO

They didn't find out about the runes on the back of the medallion until summer holidays were almost over. By then they'd practically forgotten about it—all except Harry, because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the medallion out of his mind.

He'd come to the conclusion that despite finding it in a muggle curiosities shop, it was without a doubt magical in some way. Everyone agreed to that. As to how the medallion found its way there...who knows?

It never got warm. They'd tried putting it in Mrs. Weasley's oven, and no matter how high they turned the heat up, it stayed the same temperature. Also, Harry had finally come to realize that whenever he wore it, it prevented his nightmares from reaching him; protected his mind in a way. Hermione suggested that it was one of those objects that soothed the mind—or a pretty token doused in a dreamless-sleep potion. Harry thought it was a bit more than that.

They finally used an old and cracked magnifying glass to identify the Latin inscription written around the rim. _tempestas testudo palma ab vestri manus —_it meant _Time is held in the palm of your hand_. This was rather odd, and it confused them all greatly. However, the day Hermione managed to decipher the bases of the rune on the back found them all staring listlessly into space.

It was hot outside and no one felt like moving or thinking let alone going to look at whatever Hermione had found out when she gave a loud shout that echoed throughout the Burrow.

Harry grunted as Ron nudged him with his foot. "Go see."

"You," he responded in turn. They both turned towards Ginny, and she gave them a startled look.

"You want ME to go look? Fat chance." She lifted her chin stubbornly and then it drooped again as if moving took too much effort. When it was this hot it actually did, Harry mused.

Hermione came pounding down the stairs, "Come quickly! I've figured out the bases for the rune! Come on—ooh!" She stomped her foot impatiently and stalked over to when they lay sprawled out on the Weasley's living room floor.

Ron currently occupied the only space on the plush couch and Ginny was sprawled closest to the empty fireplace. All it held at the moment was ash, and a soft breeze could actually be felt blowing down the chimney.

Harry was smack-dab in the center of the room. His arms and legs akimbo, he stared up at Hermione's face as it loomed over him.

"You three are all LAZY! Get up! And you Ginny, I would at least have thought that you'd have something better to do than laze around with these couch-potatoes!"

"Couch-potatoes?" Ron questioned sleepily. Hermione huffed once more.

"Well! Fine with me if you don't want to know what the bases are! And from what I can tell of the rune and the way the bases are arranged and it's meaning, well, it's _very_ interesting..." She finished in a sort of sing-song voice that had Harry perking up at last. Well, he concluded, it WAS his medallion, so he might as well go look. Ron spoke first.

"Why can't you just tell us now?"

"Argh! BECAUSE! There is more than one meaning and I can't remember them all, I have them written down upstairs! You either come up with me or not, because I'm not coming back down again!" With that said she whirled around and stormed up the stairs in a huff.

"Good riddance." Ron muttered after she was out of hearing range. Ginny half-heartedly told him off and then went back to drawing imaginary pictures on the stones in the fireplace. Harry, however, laboriously rolled over onto his stomach and braced his arms against the rug in order to lever himself up off the floor. And he did.

"Mate. You're bonkers," and Ron then proceeded to drape one floppy arm over his eyes as if to block out an imaginary sun. Harry sighed and began the long and tedious trek up the crooked wooden stairs to the bedroom Hermione shared with Ginny.

He reached the door in record time and pushed it open to find Hermione sitting on the floor with the largest books Harry had _ever_ seen scattered around her. She glanced up.

"Oh good. Someone with sense, honestly..." She motioned for him to sit and pulled one of the abnormally gross books towards her. Harry stared at them with raised eyebrows, but she ignored him.

By the time he'd settled next to her on the carpeted floor Ron had managed to drag himself up the stairs and was poking his head through the door. Hermione smiled slightly as he complained loudly of exercising excess energy.

Soon all three—including Ginny—were seated not-so-comfortably around Hermione and her humongous books, and they leaned in eagerly for the news.

A small stack of parchment lay before her and she pulled off the top sheet and began to point out the rune she'd enlarged and copied in ink.

"Here," she said, pointing to a particular bit of the rune and then pulled another piece of parchment towards her which showed that piece enlarged even more, "is the main base rune. As you can see it's the biggest one. It has several meanings, but they aren't as diverse as I'd feared...not for this one main base, which is good because now we at least have some idea as to it's meaning, but...I'm rambling aren't I?"

"Yes." They chorused. Hermione sighed and started to read off the various readings of the 'main base rune' which was printed in her neat and tidy writing.

"Most commonly this rune means, to put it simply, time, or a unit of time. Of course there are many elaborations on that, but I think it's safe to say that this is meant to mean time because of the Latin inscription." She paused for breath and continued, "Anyway, a few other various meanings are also year, great stone hedge—which I have reason to believe refers to Stonehenge—and, well, there are more, but they're very obscure and I don't think that they pertain to this particular rune after lengthy observation of the other bases..." she trailed off thoughtfully and they all blinked and waited for her to continue.

"This," she pulled another parchment towards her that depicted a different rune this time, "I have reason to believe means heavens. Either heavens, or gods, perhaps even universe. It has to do with astronomy whichever way you look at it, though in perhaps a more ritual and religious way." She stared at the rune thoughtfully before discarding it in favor of another piece of parchment.

She studied this one for a while and then pulled another sheet towards her as well. "These two," She murmured, "I don't quite understand how they blend in with the other two. It makes no sense because the others both seem to have the reoccurring theme of time, while these are normal household objects. They're both nouns too, not ideas." She showed them the first sheet.

"This one means a thread or a weave. Like on a loom. A woven piece of cloth. It also means pattern, but I'm more inclined to think it means something along the lines of a weave." Harry stared at the small 'base' rune and mentally scratched his head. Wow. Ancient Runes must be _hard_. (AN: that was RANDOM)

"What about the other one 'Mione." Ron, ever the impatient one, demanded. She scowled lightly.

"Patience, Ron, is a virtue. Now, this one means, to put it bluntly ('scuze the pun) a knife. Or, a sharp object whose general purpose is to cut things. It can also be a verb, to slice, or cut. Also, to clear. How the implications of 'clear' are used, I have no clue. We can only guess."

"Any more?" Harry questioned. Hermione nodded vaguely.

"Yes, one more. Here it is." She pulled the last parchment sheet towards her and studied it with a sigh. "This one means, or its base meaning is a journey; a voyage. This one is the easiest to discern because it's doesn't have very many alterations in its meaning. I can safely say that this rune means journey. And that's all of them," she sighed and pilled all her papers together.

"Well," said Harry, "that was enlightening..."

"Sure mate, now we know _exactly _what the rune means!" Ron said. Hermione scowled and moved to bat him over the head, but Ginny got there first.

"Ow..."

Harry sighed, "Ron, really...you had that coming, it's called common courtesy."

"There we go; at least Harry can act like a gentleman if he wants to. Somehow I doubt you could even if you tried Ronald Weasley," Hermione said and a flash of jealousy flashed in Ron's eyes, but no one noticed. He scowled, and then his expression cleared up slightly as he happily sniffed the air wafting up from downstairs.

"Lunch!"

* * *

Hogwarts letters arrived soon enough and in no time the Weasley family plus Harry and Hermione were lined up in front of the fireplace with a pot of Floo powder in hand.

"I hate Floo," Harry grumbled as George disappeared in a flash of green fire. Fred soon followed, and only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were left. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley planned to apparate to the Leaky Cauldron (the place for Floo arrivals to Diagon Alley) and meet them there.

"Go on Harry, your next," Ron shoved the powder in Harry's direction as Mrs. Weasley smiled encouragingly at him. Harry sighed and grabbed a handful.

Remembering the last time he traveled to Diagon Alley in his second year, he made sure to enunciate the words carefully before he was whisked away in a whirl storm of green.

Harry fell out of the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace coughing and covered in soot. He quickly scrambled out of the way as the fireplace flared green once more and Ron tumbled out.

"Here mate, let us help you up!" Fred and George moved in on Ron with identical expressions of exaggerated innocence. Ron quickly scrambled up and away from them, backing away towards the fireplace with a suspicious expression.

"What were you planning to—oomph!" Hermione came tumbling out of the fireplace and landed squarely on Ron's back, knocking the wind out of him as his words were cut off. Fred and George started laughing; only stopping when Mrs. Weasley popped into being next to them.

"Oh dear," she muttered and helped Hermione up leaving Ron to fend for himself, "Are you alright Hermione dear? Good." Without waiting to see if Ron was okay, she swept out the backdoor and up to the brick wall. Fred and George trailed after her, while Harry waited for Ron and Ginny. Fortunately, Ginny appeared at the same instant that Mr. Weasley apparated in. Somehow Ginny managed a more dignified landing as she exited the sooty fireplace and managed to avoid stepping on Ron. Smiling, Harry helped his friend up, and then four hurried after Mrs. Weasley.

"First stop, Gringotts," declared Mrs. Weasley as soon as they were all assembled. Diagon Alley was particularly crowded and they eventually managed to worm their way through the throng of people and came up to Gringotts' Wizarding Bank.

First they stopped at a money exchange booth where Hermione changed the money that her parents had given her into wizard currency. Soon, they were all crowding into a cart and had almost managed to squeeze everyone in when the Goblin noticed and summoned another cart. He sternly told them only four to a cart.

"Mrs. Weasley, I could go with Hermione to my vault and you can all go together," Harry offered.

"Nonsense dear. We'll all go together, and remember, only four to a cart," Mrs. Weasley ushered Ron and Ginny into Harry and Hermione's cart and shot a warning look at her husband, whose mouth was open and about to speak. He snapped it shut quickly and sat down meekly. Mrs. Weasley smiled.

"All set then? Good, right, we can go now."

And off they went. They stopped at the Weasley's vault first, as it was closer and Harry winced at the sight of an almost empty vault. They had to wait a while for Mrs. Weasley's stomach to settle down, and they were off again.

This time they screeched to a halt in front of Harry's vault. He quickly clambered out, along with a green Mrs. Weasley, and set his key in the lock. A quick turn and the door swung open with an ominous grating sound.

Made quite self conscious by the Weasley's lack of wealth, Harry had never really actually bothered to look at what was in his vault since that time during his first year at Hogwarts, but now Harry took a few moments to glance around—and frowned.

After five years of withdrawals, he had assumed that it would make a dent in his money pile. When in first year, he had been so small and the piles of money so high that he had never considered that there could have been more behind what he had previously seen. But, with hurried withdrawal after hurried withdrawal Harry finally noticed something that had been staring him in the face all those years, yet he had not even bothered to look.

Behind what had been the pile of galleons that Harry had first removed his money from, there was a clearing, and what was more, what that it almost seemed to be a path. Ignoring the money, Harry observed the dimensions of his vault, and noticed—to his uttermost surprise—that they were much larger than he had previously assumed.

Turning back to a starry-eyed Mrs. Weasley, Harry cleared his throat.

"Mrs. Weasley?" she jumped, startled, and then made a vague noise of agreement, "Mrs. Weasley, you don't mind if a I have a slight look around, I think there's a path through the money, and I'm awfully curious...hello? Mrs. Weasley?"

"What? Oh, yes, yes, go ahead dear, do whatever you like..."

"Harry," Hermione began, and stepped out of the cart, "what are you talking about? Paths? It's a vault, filled with gold, what paths?"

Harry shrugged, and soon the whole Weasley family was crowded around him and staring at his vault in awe. Harry felt slightly uncomfortable, especially at the rather jealous look on Ron's face, but ignored it in favor of his discovery.

"Look," he said quietly; and then stepped over the first pile of gold and onto the 'path.' Without asking, an eager Hermione followed—Ginny as well, but Ron stayed right where he was—and they trailed after him as he carefully made his way through the gold piles.

At first he hadn't been sure, but now he knew that the gold had been purposefully arranged like this, to allow entrance to the back of the vault. It didn't take long to get there, and what Harry found was most unusual.

In Gringotts vaults, there was gold; no exceptions, yet, here Harry found a small plain envelope perched atop a small stack of sickles. He hesitantly bent down and picked it up, afraid it would explode upon impact, but nothing happened.

"Ooh, what is it? Can I see?" Hermione tugged on his elbow, and Harry turned around quickly and showed them.

"It's not addressed to anyone, do you think I should open it?" he asked. Ginny nodded.

"It wouldn't have been put here if it weren't supposed to be opened by you eventually, don't you agree?" she said.

"I suppose so," he murmured. Walking carefully, so as not to disrupt the gold, they made their way back in a single file line. Stepping out of the vault, Harry showed the envelope to the rest of the Weasley family. He was relieved to find that Ron quickly lost his jealous look in favor of a curious one, and he urged him to open it.

He peeled back the envelope seal carefully—because it was a rather beautiful seal—and peered inside. Frowning, he shook the contents out onto his open palm. A single golden key (quite a large one actually) and a small slip of paper.

_Sector 4, Vault 3_ was written on the paper in flowing red ink.

"Sector four?" Harry questioned. There was a slight gasp.

"Sector _four_?" Mrs. Weasley stared at the key with wide eyes.

"But what about Sector four, I don't get—" he was quickly cut off by the Gringotts goblin, who piped up, "Sector four sir? What vault please sir? Can I see your key please sir?" The goblin waddled towards them and held out his hand. Not knowing what else to do, Harry dropped both the key and the paper into his hand and watched as the goblin's eyebrows rose.

"Vault 3 sir? Very well, follow me."

The goblin handed back the key and paper, and a very confused Harry and Co. got back into the first cart, while the rest of the Weasley family got into the second. In all the excitement, Harry had forgotten to get any money, and left his vault with his key and an empty purse.

The cart ride to 'Sector four, Vault three' was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced. When going to collect the Philosopher's Stone with Hagrid all those years ago, Harry had doubted you could go any deeper—but he was wrong. They did go deeper, very much deeper. So deep, in fact, that they couldn't see their surroundings. Except for when they began to slow down some twenty minutes later.

There was a cherry red glow ahead, like a small fire, and Harry couldn't quite make out what it was at first until they got closer and started to go slower and slower. By the time they stopped, every one had been shocked into silence and were unable to move.

Before them, in all its 50 foot glory, stood a large dragon the likes of which they had never seen before.

"Out." Said the goblin, and hopped up onto the platform...right next to the dragon. Finally, Harry found his voice.

"B-but," he stuttered, "there's a dragon, and...and..."

"Do not worry sir, this is a special goblin breed of dragon specifically designed to guard treasures. As long as you have the right key, the dragon will not attack. It guards the next cart we must take. The Sector four cart, so please, show him your key."

Slowly, so as not to startle the beast, Harry got up and out of the cart. Digging in his pocket produced said key, and then Harry was at a loss.

"What—" he began, but got no farther as the dragon bent its mighty head and held the key at eye level. Then, before Harry could react, it snaked out its giant serpent tongue and snatched the key out of his grasp. A loud gasp by Mrs. Weasley accompanied this, but Harry stood stock still, too startled to move or speak.

The dragon turned and placed the key on the ground quite a distance away and stepped back and reared its head. With a mighty bellow, searing blue and white flames shot out of its maw and engulfed the spot where the key rested. Harry gave a strangled cry and stumbled back away from the heat waves rolling across the platform.

"Our dragons have the hottest flame known to wizard kind. If it is truly a sector four key, then it can withstand the flames. All sector four keys are built out of a special metal, do not fear," the goblin recited, almost as if he were giving a lecture to small children. He sounded very bored, but then, all goblins seemed to sound like that.

Harry had no time to think over what the goblin had said however, when the dragon loomed over him once more and dropped a now cool key into his hand. It looked exactly the same. Respectfully the dragon stepped aside to reveal another cart. This cart was much bigger than the last ones, and would easily fit the whole party.

"Well, this is an adventure," said Ron dryly, as he stepped out of the old cart and walked past the dragon into the new one. Harry couldn't help but admire the way he strode straight past the beast and into the cart without even glancing its way or seeming even the slightest bit unnerved. Everyone, emboldened by Ron's actions, quickly left the old cart behind and again they were off into the darkness of London's underground caves.

Soon they began to go so deep that the air became thick with must and dust and it started to become harder and harder to breathe. When they began to slow down and approach another red glow in the distance, Harry didn't need to be told what to do.

This time, Harry wasn't as startled when the dragon took his key and breathed its flames upon it, but he was rather surprised when it stepped aside to reveal not another cart, but a vault—a huge vault—number three. Of course, he chided himself, how many more carts did you _expect _to go in, hm?

"Insert the key and place your palm in the space above the lock please sir," said the goblin. Harry quickly fitted the key into the rather large lock, then placed his hand in the circular space above it.

At first nothing happened, until the goblin gave an exasperated sigh and told him to turn the key. Blushing slightly at his stupidity, and ignoring Ron's gauffs behind him, he turned the key slightly to the right and a clicking noise ensued. It reminded Harry of the time that they had opened the Philosopher's Stone's vault; with all the gears turning and clicking. Then Harry felt a slight tingling on his palm and the circular space glowed red for the briefest of moments. A final loud clicking ensued and then the vault door began to move.

* * *

AN: Right, I know that EVERYONE does these "Harry having a trust fund and then a huge family vault that's filled with treasures" BUT I actually have a reason other than to make Harry richer. It's all part of the plot, but I couldn't help embellishing the vault security and wealth....heh....heh....

Anyway, please review and tell me what you think. Once again, I apologize for my bad Latin, and also for the crappy content in this chapter. It's written horribly, I know, but I just got over my writer's block, and I was still having a bit of trouble...

Also, school starts tomorrow, so the only time I'll have time to type is during the weekends. Expect at least a month between updates. Sorry. I'll try to update every 2-3 weeks, but I definitely not assuring you that. You know how teachers just LOVE to pile on the homework and projects and such...

...plus I have HORRIBLE time-management! Heh heh, the next chapter's going to take a while, that I can assure you.

-HEXE-


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